


Confrontation

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drama, Harry Potter Next Generation, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-15
Updated: 2008-12-15
Packaged: 2018-10-26 08:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Ron needs to talk to HermioneWorth the Risk #24





	Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

It’s obvious that Griselda Marchbanks woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Normally, Hermione admires the eldest member of the Wizengamot for being the first witch to be part of the Department of Magical Law over a century ago and making way for generations of witches since to have a chance at equality in all areas of the Wizarding world. Today, however, she’s contemplating the possibility of dosing Marchbanks’ coffee with a dreamless sleep potion to get her to stop talking.

The case is open and shut. The defendant already plead guilty, and the terms of his punishment were discussed in depth over the last couple of weeks. It shouldn’t have taken more than an hour, tops, to go before the Wizengamot, present the case, receive their approval, and remove one more file from her overcrowded desk. Instead, it has been three hours of Marchbanks asking the most inane questions that don’t even pertain to the case. At nearly two hundred years old, there’s always a chance that Marchbanks has reached a point where her mind isn’t quite as sharp as it should be, but Hermione knows the woman well after more than a decade of trying cases before her and the others. She’s still in her right mind; she’s just cranky today and making the rest of the world pay for it.

When approval is finally given for the defendant to undergo counseling in the Department of Mental and Social Health at St. Mungos and pay a fine, it’s lunch time. The entire morning has been spent grinding her teeth while waiting for the farce of a trial to conclude, and now she’ll not have any time in her office unless she skips lunch. Marchbanks has managed to make her cranky now, which is quite a feat considering the fact that she didn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

In fact, she woke up on Teddy’s chest, which is really a wonderful way to start the morning. Not even the latest update on the Warrington case could completely ruin her mood, though it did dishearten her some. It took Marchbanks playing dumb and asking dozens of questions that were irrelevant to spoil her day. As she leaves the courtroom, she glares at the empty chairs for good measure.

“I’m glad I’m not one of those chairs.”

At the comment, Hermione looks up to see Ron standing by the door. The courtroom is empty, so he must be waiting on her, though he didn’t mention anything about meeting her after court. “Be glad you’re not Marchbanks,” she says with a grimace.

“Is that what took so long? I dropped by your office at nine and Caroline said you had court but shouldn’t be very long. When I went back at noon, she said you were still down here.”

“Don’t even get me started,” she warns, shaking her head as she walks towards him. “Did you need something? Did you find out something about Warrington?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes to what?”

“Yes, I need something. No, we don’t have anything new in the case yet.”

“What do you need?” He blinks at her tone and seems taken aback, which she didn’t intend. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound sharp. It’s just been a long morning already.”

“I need to talk to you. I mean, we can have lunch, yeah?”

The last time Ron said ‘I need to talk’ in that confused but determined voice, he told her he was dating Mel. It’s much too soon for him to have proposed, isn’t it? Even Ron would need more time before taking such a big step, especially with the children involved. Oh God, what if he’s suddenly decided he’s too old to live alone or likes that Mel washes his shorts and cooks well or some other excuse he can use to get married and not be lonely anymore?

“Lunch. Right. Okay,” she finally says, wishing she could lie and claim a meeting or something important that needs done for work. But it’s Ron, and she can’t lie to him. Avoid the truth, certainly, but not outright lie.

“Good. Let’s go,” he says firmly, nodding in emphasis.

“I have to drop this off at my office first and check in with Caroline,” she points out.

“She was going to lunch when I went by. So was Teddy.”

“Oh, honestly, Ronald. Quit acting as if there’s some dire reason why I can’t go by my office,” she mutters as they start up the stairs to catch the lift.

“Don’t start, Hermione. It’s just a bloody file. You carry files to lunch all the time for work, so this is no different. We need to go now because it’s important. And I’m ready. And I don’t need anything to distract us and make me lose my bloody nerve.”

“Language,” she says with a frown. “Nerve?”

“I’m not saying another word until we leave this building,” he says stubbornly.

It’s the tone of voice that annoyed her to death while they were married, and now it serves as a reminder of one of many reasons they had to separate. She’s stubborn, too, and has many faults, probably more than Ron if she’s being completely honest, but the fact that she became unable to indulge him when he was like this was part of the irrevocable truth of falling out of love.

“When you threaten someone, _Ronald_ , you should ensure that the threat is something they’d not want,” she says pointedly.

He makes a motion over his lips and shakes his head, humming awkwardly as he refuses to speak.

“And now we have you displaying behavior that would even make Hugo appear childish,” she mutters. She’s cross and irritated, which, added to her morning, does not put her in good spirits at all. “Bloody bastard.”

He hums something that sounds remarkably like ‘language’ and smirks, knowing full well her only choices are to ignore him and not find out what’s so important or give in and let him win. It’s so very tempting to just wash her hands of him and remind herself they’re divorced and he’s Mel’s problem now.

There are times she loathes her curiosity and need to know as much as possible. “Fine. We’ll leave now,” she says in a sharp tone as they step onto the lift. She ignores him during the ride to the lobby and walks ahead of him as they leave the Ministry. If he can behave like a child, she can certainly behave like a swotty teenager and still be more mature than him.

When they get outside, she starts walking towards Finnigan’s, but he grabs her arm to stop her. “Not there,” he says.

“Oh, you’ve finally remembered how to speak, have you?”

“I didn’t forget. I just chose not to do it for a few minutes. You should be proud, considering all the times you accused me of never being able to shut up.”

“It’s funny that you can remember that yet never could remember our anniversary or my birthday.”

“Just talented, I guess,” he says with a shrug. He frowns and runs his hand over the top of his head, leaving his hair in disarray. “Look, can we start over? I don’t---we don’t need anger between us. There’s already enough that’s fucked up with everything else.”

“Don’t think that a rare display of maturity makes up for you refusing to speak.” She frowns but nods once. “But fine. No anger. And do please try to learn alternate words for fuck because I do not want Hugo to go around imitating your vocabulary. If we‘re not eating at Finnigan‘s, where are we going?”

“My flat?”

She blinks at him and shifts uncomfortably. “Your flat?”

“Not for _that_ ,” he says, gaping at her. “Bloody hell. I’m not---we’re not---it’s been years since we did that!”

“Yes, well, the last time you suggested lunch at your flat included _that_ ,” she reminds him. She has no interest in revisiting that element of their relationship, even if it did last longer than their marriage.

“I also wasn’t dating Mel and, fuck, it was years ago, before the divorce was final,” he points out, blushing beneath his freckles as he continues to gape at her.

“What?” she snaps. “You suggest lunch at your flat and you’re behaving oddly, so it’s little surprise that I’d be suspicious.”

“It _is_ a surprise that you’d think of that instead of many other logical reasons I might suggest somewhere private for a talk. You and logic are usually joined at the brain.”

“Forgive me for not being so clever when my morning has been spent listening to Marchbanks drone on and now you’re acting like you’ve stepped out of some silly Muggle film on the telly.”

“Oh, bugger it all,” he says before he grabs her and Apparates them to his flat. When they arrive, he lets her go and grabs her wand from her robe. “No hexing. We’d have stood there all day arguing if I hadn’t done something.”

“Give me my wand, Ronald.”

“Only if you promise not to use it on me or leave.”

“I don’t need a wand to make you suffer.”

“Oh, right. Well, fuck.” He hands her the wand and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. This, uh, it’s awkward and going worse than I expected, and I had really low expectations, so that says something.”

She glares at him but finally puts her wand back in her pocket. “Should I sit down for this talk? You’re, uh, you’re not getting married, are you?”

“What?” he asks, almost gurgling as he stares at her. “No. God no. Not ready…not for awhile…if ever…God. Where did that come from?”

“Just asking,” she says, shrugging before she walks to his sofa and sits. If she’s going to miss lunch because he’s decided they need to have a talk, she’ll at least be comfortable. “So, what is it then?”

He pulls his chair closer to the sofa and sits down, tapping his foot as he looks at her. He starts to speak then closes his mouth. After sitting there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes, he gets up and begins to pace. Finally, he turns towards her and asks, “Are you bloody mental?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and frowns at him.

“That didn’t come out the way I meant but, God, Hermione. This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and I include going on a date with McClaggen in that list.”

“What _are_ you going on about?” She hates when he’s vague and acts as if she should somehow understand Ron-speak, which is incomprehensible at the best of times.

“You and Teddy.”

She feels her tummy twist as she stares at him. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if she’s just displayed proof that the color really can fade from someone’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says simply. It’s best not to incriminate herself when she has no idea what Ron knows. How would Ron know anything? She hasn’t said or done anything that could make him think she’s having an affair with Teddy.

“Just don’t,” he says firmly. “I’m not an idiot. I also know you better than even Harry does, despite your little silent communication thing with him. I was married to you for fifteen years, and I _know_ you.”

“How long have you known?” She sighs and runs her hand over her face, hating the way he’s looking at her as if accusing her of something evil.

“I thought something was off when I came back from my holiday with Hugo, but it’s been little things since that made me realize who and then I thought I had to be wrong because, fuck, he’s a kid! You’re shagging Harry’s Godson! Do you have any idea how wrong that is? It’s just---I knew I had to be imagining things but it kept nagging at me and nagging until yesterday when I watched you go to him, like you used to go to me, and you almost hugged him. Then, I knew.”

“He’s not a child, and there’s nothing wrong with it! We’re consenting adults, despite the age difference, and this isn’t something I entered into on a whim, Ron. I thought about it before I ever did it,” she points out. She resents feeling as if she has to defend herself, but she can’t just allow him to make such claims without saying something in return.

“Nothing wrong with it? Hermione, we used to babysit him! I’ve changed his nappies, and now he’s shagging my wife!”

“I’m not your wife anymore.”

“How could you?” he asks, pacing and cursing under his breath. “Are you that lonely? That desperate?”

She stands up and slaps him hard, enjoying the moment before she feels guilty. He stares at her in surprise and hurt, and she drops her hand. “Don’t ever speak to me that way, Ron. You haven’t in decades, and there’s no way I’ll let you start now. We’re not children anymore.”

“No, but you’re fucking one.” He cringes and curses again as he rubs his cheek. “God, I didn’t want to fight. I just---you didn’t tell me, and I had to know if I was right. And I don’t see how you could ever think this is a good idea.”

“Ted is twenty years old, and more mature than most men twice his age,” she says quietly. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Couldn’t stop yourself? I’d believe that the first time, because he’s an attractive bloke and probably charmed your knickers off with a smile and flirty words, but all the other times? Is it just sex? You let him stay over? Does Hugo have any idea?”

“How do you know that I didn’t charm him?” she asks, sitting back down as she pulls her legs up beneath her robe and rests her feet on the edge of the sofa. “Hugo doesn’t know. Even before Ted and I became intimate, he would come over sometimes, so nothing has changed as far as Hugo is aware. And, no, it isn’t just sex.”

“He’s twenty and was dating our much-sought-after-by-blokes-with-grabby-h

ands niece, Hermione. That’s how I know he charmed you. Probably sees you as some conquest, the bloody bastard. Beautiful divorcee just ripe for seducing, so he can brag to his mates about getting a leg over on a hot older bird.”  
  
“He’s not you, Ron,” she points out softly. “He isn’t the type to brag nor would he ever consider me in such crude terms. Nor am I particularly beautiful in the way you seem to think makes me attractive to younger men wishing to prove themselves or some nonsense, though I do appreciate you thinking I am.”  
  
“I was a twenty year old man once. I know how they think and what they usually think _with_ ,” he says. “If I hadn’t been in love with you when I was that age, I’d have been completely into the idea of being some hot older woman’s sex toy.” He hesitates and drops his gaze to the floor as he shuffles his feet. “And I know he’s not me. Doesn’t have much in common with me at all. Not really sure why you’d be attracted to him…or to me, if he’s what your type really is.”  
  
It’s impossible to deal with Ron when he runs hot and cold and changes moods so quickly that she can’t keep up. In the span of minutes, he’s gone from shouting to snarling to being slapped to worrying about her virtue to vulnerable. It gives her a headache, and she’s still in shock that he’s figured it out when she tried so hard to keep it a secret.  
  
What if others know? Does Harry? He knows her nearly as well as Ron, but he hasn’t had the opportunity that Ron has to gather clues. God, why do her best friends have to be puzzle-solving Aurors? No, if Harry knew he wouldn’t have quietly stewed and waited until he had to erupt like Ron. He’d have confronted her immediately. He isn’t patient enough to wait, after all. She looks up at Ron and bites her lip.  
  
“I really like him,” she whispers. He glances up and his shoulders slump as he sits back down. “And I know I shouldn‘t. I really did try to fight it at first, but who says it’s wrong? I mean, we’re both old enough to make our own choices and no one is getting hurt.”  
  
“It’s wrong because, well, fuck. I don’t know,” he mutters, leaning his head forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “He’s so young, Hermione. And he’s practically family and we changed his nappies.”  
  
“Yes, I know all that, but he’s not like most twenty year olds, and he’s not family and he doesn’t wear nappies anymore.”  
  
“How can it be more than sex? You’ve got a generation separating you, and you’ve always been mature for your age,” he points out quietly. His anger has gone and now he just looks hurt and confused.  
  
“I can’t even explain it, but it works. And, honestly, I shouldn’t have to explain it. If I were a man and he was an attractive young woman the same age, very few people would even blink at the idea of us being together. It’s not fair that I have to defend myself just because of the gender reversal.”  
  
“Don’t. The big words and ideals aren’t what this is about, not to me. I’m worried that he’s using you, and you’re going to get hurt and I’ll have to kill him, which will annoy Harry and it’s best to avoid doing that since he’s nearly as scary as you. And, God, I don’t know. He’s not like me at all!”  
  
“Calling me mental and implying that I'm an immoral pervert who’s pram-snatching is your idea of comfort?” She shakes her head. “Teddy isn’t like you, but Mel isn’t like me, either. Hurts, doesn’t it?”  
  
“More than I realized,” he whispers, giving her a crooked smile as he reaches out to take her hand. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust him because I know what it’s like at that age, and you’re vulnerable, even if you’re so very strong. The thing is, I’m not only your ex-husband, I’m your best friend, too, which means I’m completely fucked right now because I’m being torn in a dozen different ways, and I’m so bloody sorry if this is how you feel when I talk to you about Mel, because it’s horrible.”  
  
“My affair with Teddy is a mutual agreement to explore the possibility and see what happens. We’ve kept it a secret because, honestly, neither of us wants to deal with outside drama before we even know if there’s something real there,” she explains softly. “We don’t take it to work, and I’m not letting it affect the children. He and I are just trying to see if the chemistry we couldn’t deny actually means anything or if it’s just going to burn out after a brief relationship.”  
  
“You don’t do casual. I swear, if that prat has used some sensitive ‘I’m a soulful bloke’ act on you to get into your knickers, I’m going to hurt him and, uh, obliviate him after cause I’m smart enough to be prepared.”  
  
“It’s not casual, but it doesn’t mean that it’s not temporary,” she says honestly. “And you can stop strategizing the best way to beat him up and get away clean because it’s unnecessary.” She bites her lip again as she tries to make sense of the last half hour. “Is it obvious?”  
  
“To me? Yes. To anyone else? No,” he tells her. “You’re good at being subtle, and you don’t bring personal to work, even when we were married. I just know the smiles and way your eyes soften and all the other little things in your personal language that no one else understands.”  
  
She’s relieved that it isn’t apparent to everyone, though she feels foolish for never considering Ron’s personal knowledge of her. She suspected about Mel even before he admitted he was seeing someone, after all, and he’s always been rather observant when something interests him. “It’s nice still sharing that language with you, even if it’s different now,” she murmurs as she squeezes his hand. “I know you don’t approve of it, Ron, but can you keep it private?”  
  
“It’s not that I don’t approve. Okay, maybe it is. I just, if you had to move on, I wish it was with someone I knew wouldn’t hurt you and wasn’t so much trouble. I mean, Teddy’s a good bloke, but I’ve thought about this since I started suspecting it, and people _are_ going to do all that gender issue nonsense you were talking about, and I don’t want you dealing with that or for the kids to be forced to endure it for someone who isn’t serious and committed to you.”  
  
“I know. That’s one of many issues surrounding the entire relationship,” she admits softly. “If he were older, it wouldn’t be so complicated. There’d still be the issue of his closeness to the family, but that isn’t nearly as negative as the age difference. I don’t know what’s going to happen, Ron. It could end tomorrow or it could reach a point where we have to seriously discuss what the future might hold. For now, it’s taking a chance and enjoying a little happiness while we can. Can’t you just accept that?”  
  
“I won’t tell anyone,” he says finally. “But you have to tell Harry, Hermione. It’s his Godson, and they’re close like family, and he deserves to know, even if it doesn’t change your choice. And I’m going to keep an eye on Teddy because I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”  
  
“I don’t need an overprotective best friend. Besides, there’s probably more of a chance that I’d hurt Teddy than he’d hurt me. I’ll tell Harry if it becomes more than temporary. There’s no point getting him involved if it ends naturally,” she says. “I hate sneaking around and not being completely honest, but it’s necessary right now because I’m not sure how things will go.”  
  
He squeezes her hand and leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I didn’t mean to yell and rant, but I’m still questioning your judgment and mental faculties right now."  
  
"There's no need to question anything. I'm a big girl, and I'm strong enough to handle the consequences for any choices that I make, even those you disagree with."  
  
"I do disagree," he admits. "I think it's a bad choice, but it's your life so I won’t nag you about it. Nagging's your job, anyway. But, if it becomes something that affects the children, I _will_ become involved. Understood?"  
  
"I only nag because I care." She nods and moves her thumb around his. "Understood. The children are my priority, Ron, and nothing has changed, or will change, that."  
  
"I know. Just saying it all official and on the record so you can't hex me if it does come up." He smiles wryly as he says, "And, if he ends up hurting you, I’ve got strong arms that hug real well. Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” she murmurs, reaching out to hug him. “And I didn’t mean to slap you, but you were being infuriating and rude.”  
  
“Probably deserved it. I was out of line.”  
  
“Another display of maturity isn’t going to make me forget your accusation that I’m mental.”  
  
“Will sandwiches?” he asks with a cheeky grin. “I did promise you lunch, after all.”  
  
“Yes, you did,” she agrees. “They might help.”  
  
He gets up and goes into the kitchen, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Ron knows. He knows and doesn’t approve but he’s willing to sort of accept it, for now. It’s funny that she’s been worried about someone finding out since it started, but she actually never thought ahead enough to predict what reactions might be because she knows there are too many variables to consider for an accurate guess.   
  
She has no basis of comparison for Ron’s reaction beyond her worst case scenario of everyone hating her and calling her foul names. He doesn’t hate her, but it’s obviously difficult for him to agree to keep quiet and let her live her life, since he seems to think she’s making a mistake. However, she knows that her affair with Teddy isn’t bad judgment, so Ron can have whatever opinion he wants. It certainly doesn’t make it true.   
  
What worries her the most is that Ron’s reaction could be the most positive compared to everyone else, which causes her to dwell on the issues she generally lets linger around her and Teddy without trying to think about them too much. There are too many things in her head right now, and she’s still somewhat in shock after being found out and confronted with such a range of emotions, so she focuses on the sound of Ron making sandwiches and does her best not to panic now that someone actually knows their secret.  
  
End Chapter 24


End file.
